He rolled a cigarette while he waited.
He sat atop a small rise in the surrounding prairie that stretched as far as can be seen in every direction. Behind him to the North, just at the edge of vision, lay the town of Blackwater. He found a match in his vest pocket and struck it against the cold iron of his left arm. The flame danced in the breeze as it licked at the tip of the cigarette. He took a long drag, filling his mouth with the sweet flavor of tobacco before snuffing the match out beneath his heel. The sound of horseshoes crunching their way up the trail to the overlook set him on edge. Slowly, three men creeped over the rise on horseback, with an Indian woman trailing behind them on foot. Her hands were bound by coarse hemp rope which was in turn tied to the horn of one man's saddle. He pulled another mouthful of smoke, exhaled it slowly from his nostrils, and stood to greet them. "Harvey Hughes and the Mesa Devils. I ain't seen you boys this far North in a spell."
The lead man, older than his twin companions by near on a decade, dismounted and gave him a quick nod of acknowledgment. "Kincade," he said with a smile.
"What brings you big bad lawbreakers out of your stompin' grounds down in the desert?" Kincade asked, greeting the man as one would an old friend.
"Things got a little too hot for us down South after we robbed the bank in Franklin. Thought we'd ride for cooler climes till the weather clears."
"I can appreciate that," Kincade replied, hefting his large black trunk with his clockwork arm and depressing the button on its side. It caused four mechanically-assisted legs to unfold from its bottom, creating a waist-high bench at his side. "Your letter said you wanted to do some business. What can I do for you and your boys?"
"Always business, Kincade. Don't you ever have no fun?"
"Our ideas of fun ain't exactly in alignment," Kincade answered, nodding toward the captive woman at the back of the group.
"Lighten up, Kincade. You take life too seriously. Always have. Maybe you should run with me and the crew for a while. See if we can't loosen them nuts and bolts some."
"I walk on the right side of the law, Harvey, you know that. I can't go tarnishing my sterling reputation by pullin' bank jobs and robbin' coaches."
"Don't stop you from profiting from it none, does it?"
"We got business to transact or not? I didn't meet you up on this rock to trade barbs."
"Fine, fine. Have it your way. Mostly what we need is powder and shot. Burned through most of what we had robbin' that bank and ain't been able to resupply since."
"Easy enough." Kincade produced a small silver key from his pocket and unlocked the trunk. "What else you need?"
"Need you to take a look at the pepperbox you outfitted Tommy with last we crossed paths. Damn thing developed a nasty habit of firing off all four barrels at once. It ain't much use in a shoot out."
"Let me see it." Kincade reached inside his trunk and produced a bag of shot and another of powder while Hughes retrieved the rifle from his companion.
"Never should have bought this Russian junk in the first place," Hughes said, more to himself than anyone else, as he turned the quad-barreled weapon over for inspection.
"What's with the native girl?" Kincade asked after taking the weapon, laid it on his makeshift desk, and retrieved some tools from inside its depths.
"Caught her and a few of her savage friends trying to steal from our camp one night. Violent sons of whores they was, but we put an end to that. Tex thought she'd be fun to keep around for recreation." Harvey chuckled. "Ain't that right, Tex?"
Tex nodded, maintaining his grim silence.
